ATTACK ON ME. BUTTERWORTH. "but they're getting rather too many for us, Colonel, and I think we had both better leave." By this time there were between twenty and thirty of the red devils yelling and shooting at rather close quarters. Under cover of the smoke they retired a short distance from the wagons, where they became separated. Janin made his escape into a ravine, where he lay concealed for some time; and Butterworth took his stand behind a mesquittree about a couple of hundred yards from the wagons, where he resolved to make as good a fight as possible. The Indians set fire to the grass again, and the flames swept toward him with fearful rapidity, compelling him to climb the tree for security, and even then burning part of the legs off his pantaloons. Two bullet-holes which we found in the tree indicated that his position was by no means a pleasant one. Upon further examination of the spot where the wagons stood, we found various fragments of the plunder scattered around, such as sardine boxes, broken candle-box less with a firm determination to bring themes, cartridges, patent medicines, and a botback if ever he overtook them. But neither he tle inscribed PHILIP ROACH, San Francisco. nor they appeared on the battle-ground again. The Indians perceiving their advantage, began to press in rather forcibly. Young Janin behaved with great coolness. Turning to Butter.worth, who had reserved his fire for the last desperate struggle, he said, "Colonel, I can't see them very well-lend me your specs!" But the Colonel saw no speculation in that, and merely observed-"No; you had better save yourself, Janin." "I won't desert you," said Janin; This was one of a number bearing a similar brand, containing some brandy reputed to be fifty years old. Mr. Butterworth, I have been informed, said it went harder with them to see these brutal wretches drink up his choice brandy than all the rest of the disaster put together. Plunder was evidently their chief object; for as soon as they had gutted the wagons of their contents they retired across the Santa Cruz River, where they held a grand carousal over their booty. They had succeeded in getting $1700 in gold coin and other property, amounting in the aggregate to about $3000. It is gratifying to know that this band of Apaches has since met with summary vengeance at the hands of the California Volunteers. Most if not all of them have been killed, and $700 of the money taken from their dead bodies. Had there been two resolute men with our unlucky friend when he heard them carousing across the river during the night, he could have had a more prompt and satisfactory settlement. These were the same Indians who had killed Mills and Stevens a few hours before. They had crossed over icans among them could find no proof, nor is it sustained by subsequent developments. The same band of Indians next day attacked a party of Mexicans on the Tubatama road, and killed four of the number, putting the rest to flight. Butterworth was entirely unacquainted with the country, and in attempting to reach Santa Cruz lost his way. Janin and a small Yaqui boy, who had escaped during the fight, reached Santa Cruz without difficulty. Here a relief party was immediately gotten up by Señor Commodoran. Janin was apprehensive that his comrade might have been killed, but still had hopes RESCUE OF BUTTERWORTH. of his safety, and sent a note by Commodoran announcing his own safe arrival. Not very far above the Calabasas Ranch we reached the spot where Mr. Butterworth had camped after two days and nights of exposure and extreme suffering from cold, and where he was first seen by Commodoran. The nights were intensely sharp. He had no blankets, and deemed it imprudent to light a fire, until he found it impossible to bear with the cold any longer. What his sufferings were in this wild region, surrounded by lurking foes, without food, without blankets, and beyond the reach, as he supposed, of all human aid, no man who has not traveled in Arizona can conceive. Two days and nights of such suffering as would have caused most men to despair had left their marks upon him. His throat was wrapped with straw, and he was evidently in a very bad condition. Up to this time he could not have wandered much less than fifty miles up and down the valley of the Santa Cruz. On the approach of Commodoran, supposing him to be a Sonoranian marauder, he raised his gun, and was about to kill him, when the frightened Mexican cried out, "No tira! no tira! Yo Amigo! Amigo!" Still Butterworth kept his gun pointed at him. "Vamos!" was all he could say in Spanish. Commodoran, with great sagacity, jerked up his horse's head, so as to keep it between him and the muzzle of the gun, and slowly approaching, held out Janin's note, shouting, "No tira! Yo Amigo! Patagonia! Patagonia!" The last was a lucky hit. The word "Patagonia" was familiar, and partially solved the mystery. Janin's note did the rest, and the most cordial greeting followed this inhospitable reception. The return of Mr. Butterworth to Santa Cruz, where he procured a new outfit; the recovery of his ambulance and wagon; meeting with his friends Küstel and Higgins at Tubac; visit to the Cerro Colorado, and subsequent adventures on the road to Guyamas; safe arrival at San Francisco; return to New York; continuance in the presidency, with entire control as resi dent manager, of the New Almaden Quicksilver Mines, as well as of the Arizona Silver Mines at Cerro Colorado, would furnish in detail an interesting sequel to his adventure with the Apaches. Continuing our journey we reached by noon the ranch of the Calabasas, from which point we had diverged three weeks before on our route down into Sonora. All along the Santa Cruz River we passed through the richest ranges of pasture and farming land we had yet seen. Abundance of mesquit, cotton-wood, willow, and walnut is found in the river bottoms, and the grass is so luxuriant that in many places it is difficult to travel out of the beaten track. We saw great quantities of deer and a few flocks of wild turkeys; but they are unaccountably wild-much more so than in populated countries. We supposed they were not accustomed to the presence of white men. At an early hour in the afternoon we reached our former head-quarters at Tubac. It was a glorious sight to see the flag of our Union still floating from the old tower upon which we had raised it on the day of our departure for Sonora. We were now almost entirely out of provisions and forage. A few days' rations only remained. It was necessary, therefore, to send down to Tucson for fresh supplies, and the freightwagon, with an escort of ten men, was dispatched for that purpose. In the mean time I devoted a couple of days to writing up these rough notes of our adventures, and completing some sketches of the scenery on the way. RE AT REST. EST here a little while, but not forever! Thou sleepest, and I lay thee gently down; But thou art still my darling, still my ownThee from my love nor time nor death can sever. Only a little while-while thou art sleeping; I see thee as a lily that has faded, The wintry blast has bowed thy fragile head; I shall not hear her in the early morning, Alas! no more her silvery voice will ring About the dwelling like a song of mirth; I shall not see her by the Christmas hearth, Nor garlanded with flowers in the spring. Oh, never more the little arms shall twine Alas, my child, my child! my opening flower! The very crown and spring of my delight, How has my sun gone down before the night! I may not see her, nor embrace her more! But, my own darling, thou art not forsaken, Thou art but resting here a little while; I shall yet hear thy voice, and see thy smile Sleep through the night till morning comes again! THE KING OF THE AMAZONS. Capcanned to see as much of Africa as is NAPTAIN RICHARD F. BURTON, who is possible to an enterprising traveler, visited Abomey, the famous capital of Gelele, King of Dahomey, during the spring of the present year, 1864. He saw the Amazons; he saw the blood of the sacrifices, and stumbled over the skulls of the slain; he talked with the King; he was witness to the horrors and the meanness, the puerility and ferocity, the brutality and the politeness, as he says, of this African Emperor. He was honored with the commission of Embassador from the British Government to this mighty potentate, and carried with him, as pres |ents, "one forty-feet circular crimson silk damask tent, with pole complete," which the mighty Gelele turned up his snub nose at; "one richly embossed silver pipe, with amber mouth-piece, which the King could not smoke out of; "two richly-embossed silver belts, with lion and crane raised in relief, in morocco cases; two silver and partly-gilt waiters, in oak case," of which the Abomeyans had but a poor opinion; "one coat of mail and gauntlets," of the wrong size and too heavy. Whydah, which is the sea-port of Abomey, is a notorious resort of slave-traders. Here lived, some years ago, the ingenuous Captain Canot's friend, Mr. Martinez, who enjoyed the rank and power of a Caboceer of Dahomey, and was enti tled to the marks of honor of an umbrella, a chair, and perhaps also a knife and fork. Unfortunately for his descendants, of whom there are a considerable number, the mighty Gelele is heir to all property of his subjects who die; and when Mr. Martinez died the Viceroy of Whydah locked up his house, took possession of his goods, and turned his children into the street. Here also lived another of Captain Canot's slave-trading friends, Mr. Francesco Felis da Souza, who was more than a Caboceer, for he was a Chacha, which is as much as to say the Collector of Customs of Whydah, and died, worthy man, leaving behind him a hundred children. • This Da Souza family, says Captain Burton, is charged with exercising a pernicious influence over the minds of the King and people of Dahomey. It is still numerous. Our traveler gives the names of thirteen sons and four daughters who are distinguished in different ways; and besides the children, there are about a hundred grandchildren. The "patriarchal institution" appears to have flourished in this part of Africa. The daughters are too high to marry-they do worse. Whydah appears to be an abominable, hot, and uncomfortable hole; but it serves the purpose of introducing the traveler gently to the manners and customs of Dahomey. For instance, Captain Burton got out of his hammock, on the road to the town, in the hot sun, to pay his respects to a Fetich man who sat under a ragged white umbrella, and received the white man's bow with dignity. Thereupon the two snapped fingers, which is as much as though a Yankee and an Englishman should shake hands; and when this was done, the Fetich man's two wives handed around water in small wine-glasses. Water is, we learn, the greatest luxury in Dahomey. It is very scarce and, in general, only worse than the rum which the people who can afford it substitute in its place. To drink water together is therefore a ceremony, and not less than three toasts or sentiments are passed while the dignitaries, standing up, consume the glass which neither cheers nor inebriates, but only disgusts. You bow, you touch glasses, and you exclaim, "Sai diyye"-"This is water"half of it being mud. Your compotator bows, and responds, "Sai ko"-" May the water cool your throat"-it is more likely to choke you. After some more sentiments a bottle of rum is introduced, "to kill the animalculæ," as our soldiers in the South would say. Fortunately the chief of an embassy from a nation in good standing at the court of Dahomey is not required to drink all the rum that is offered him; he may without breach of manners pour it down the throat of his favorite Kruman, who opens his mouth readily for that purpose, and lets you toss the glassful down at a single gulp. Some of the waggish kings, Captain Burton tells us, have made their servants lie flat on the ground, and swallow, in that position, a bottle of rum at a draught. In Dahomey the mark of a colonel is a white umbrella, a somewhat inconvenient appendage in battle one would think. The higher civil and military dignitaries are permitted to wear or carry several umbrellas. When you are introduced to a stranger he snaps, his fingers at you, which is not a mark of contempt, but a friendly salutation, equivalent to shaking hands, and much better in a hot climate, says Burton. When a company of soldiers "present arms" in honor of some passing dignitary, such as an English embassador, they rush frantically at the object of their salute, "bending low, and simulating attack;" then the corporals advance and snap their fingers at the great man; and, finally, forming in close column, the company marches and counter-marches three times past him; halts in front of him; and finishes the ceremony with a "hideous outcry,' ""captain and men, with outstretched right arms, raising their sticks, bill-hooks, or muskets, to an angle of forty-five degrees, the muzzles in the air, like a band of conspirators on the English stage." As for the dances, of which these people are extravagantly fond, in them they go through a whole military campaign, and describe, in a somewhat lively pantomime, the decapitation of an enemy, and many other scenes pleasant to the warrior's memory. The dance, says our traveler, is "a tremendous display of agility." He thinks, indeed, that the pantomime is more troublesome than the actual fight. "One month of such performance would make a European look forward to a campaign as to a time of rest." It is a little odd that the dancers blacken their black faces with gunpowder, like an American "Ethiopian minstrel." The dance is enlivened by the firing of muskets, and concludes with a general drinking match. Indeed, most ceremonies and events, of whatever description, in Dahomey, are finished with a bottle of rum. In Dahomey there are no proper names, but an infinity of titles, and every rise in rank confers a new name. The name of the present King, Emperor, Sultan, Tycoon, or whatever the quality of the ruler of the Amazons may be, is somewhat long. It is a mere string of titles, beginning with "Gelele má Nyonzi," which signifies "Bigness with no way of lifting;" then follow the strong names, among which are: "a Rock, the finger-nail can not scratch it;" "Lion of Lions;" "Shadow which is never lost in Water;" and, finally, "An Animal which has cut its Teeth." The spy system for which the Japanese are notorious exists also in Dahomey. Every officer has his double; and this is carried so far that if a captain is sent to prison he must be accompanied by his légédé, who is answerable that the sentence is strictly carried out, and withholds from the unfortunate prisoner the food surreptitiously sent by his wives. But besides this there is a singular custom which prevents the immediate displacement of an officer by the King, who sends, however, a new man, his intended |